


Irony

by hauntedpoem



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousin Incest, Multi, admiring turgon's quiet strength, feanaro's cool with that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 22:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedpoem/pseuds/hauntedpoem
Summary: Nolofinwe's children infiltrate Feanorian ground. Turukano is the newest addition.





	Irony

**Author's Note:**

> I am challenging myself with Silm vignettes.  
> This is a sort of reply to my other fic, "Neunion~ second son".

The resemblance was striking, or so he thought. The boy- Fëanáro couldn't call him a man yet, had Ñolofinwë's eyes, his elegant and noble countenance. He was fine boned yet very tall and this upset him greatly for he was taller than even Finwë, and his father was supposed to be the greatest Noldorin ruler, at least in form.

  
The boy wasn't really that much, he insisted. Indeed, he had a keen mind and a spirit made for politics, or rather a lack of it, because Turukáno was the most dispassionate speaker that council had ever seen, yet he slowly but surely became the most convincing. That happened not because he always got what he wanted like most Nolodorin lords did but because he always got things right and strived for a sense of equanimity in all he did. Turukano was a politician's politician. He was intellectual, balanced, spoke little but with great arguments and with absolutely no inflaming tone to his voice. He put to shame the squabbling, haranguing small-minded elves.

He saw a reason for it. One was that he was a prince and not lacking in anything, the other made Feanaro respect him, in a way, because he saw the logic behind that silent mind and a higher purpose to all his actions. Turukano dressed in faded, lustreless colors, unlike his older brother, whom Feanaro was getting used to seeing ambling the corridors of their house with Nelyo in mind. 

He looked pristine yet didn't awe by dress or jewels. In fact, he wore no trinkets, or Feanaro did not see them properly. His stature was enough to impress people and his voice, although not rich and musical as that of his elders, held a gentle force.

He now looked him in the eye and the boy did not vulgarly dare and try to hold his gaze, nor did he lash out in defensiveness. Turukano was in his house and as much as it surprised Feanaro, he was not the man to kick him out. That thought was reserved for his half-brother alone, although love and hatred always battled in his heart when it came to Nolofinwe, so Feanaro came to accept his own powerlessness in that aspect.

He was greeted politely and with a modicum of curiosity, and his eyes roamed over the figure, recognizing the clothes he wore. Or better, whose. 

He knew Findekano to strut half naked or in one of Nelyo's longer shirts around the house. And his nephew always had the same indolent, challenging way whenever they bumped into each other. Feanaro, knew, of course, about the nature of their relationship.It didn't bother him that much, seeing how his own mind treacherously shared a similar attraction with his cursed half-brother. Feanaro reveled in the irony of it. To love one as you love yourself and yet to be unable to give that love a meaning. That was what he felt for Nolofinwe. It was infuriating.

And now, this one, tall like a reed, solemn and dignified, was wearing his second son's breeches and tunic. He wore gray like one wore gold, with an unparalleled inner elegance and Feanaro had to admit, he looked positively captivating.

They exchanged pleasantries and the thought that he too has lain in one of his son's bed did not let go of him. It seemed like a curse had befallen the house of Feanaro. All of Nolofinwe's brood gravitated around it choosing playmates and lovers among its members. Nelyo and Findekano, who despite all the gossip of the spurned maidens, was a good partner for his son, or Tyelko and the wild-hearted Irisse, and now, Makalaure and Turukano. The first, the second and the third were all slowly being seized from his fatherly embrace. 

He smirked thinking about his Moryo - he wondered who would put up with his temper? Maybe the fourth of Ñolofinwë's?  His Ambarussa made friends easily and they accepted their cousins as playmates. He imagined Moryo and Arakáno completing this circle.

And then, his beloved Curvo, who seemed joined at the hip with Findarato and dragged home maidens in the hope of wooing them by overwhelming them with a Feanorian dinner. 

He looked at Turukano, he could smell his son on him. Of course, it was just like Nolofinwe to get back at him through his offspring.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are love!


End file.
